


Hijo

by karrotsandknives



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Father Figures, Gore, Post-Recall, Reaper - Freeform, Whoops shes dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 09:10:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11414736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrotsandknives/pseuds/karrotsandknives
Summary: Not now. Now, he felt bad. He did this all. He did nothing to help...





	Hijo

**Author's Note:**

> Wowie i live

The shotgun pellets that had forced themselves into his skin burned. The shot was too close as that damn wisp snuck up. His back was bleeding as his hands trembled to reload Peacekeeper. Being sent to Gibraltar to reclaim the base was a horrible idea. Why didn't they think to scout the area? Was Winston new at this? The Overwatch agent took deep breaths, but froze as he heard someone coming. He held the gun close to his chest, watching as the black mist moved past his hiding spot. A cough came from a nearby spot, and Jesse was forced to watch the horror unfold.  
  
"No, pl--" The pained cry of a soldier was heard before a loud bang. She was shot, but raspy breathing came from her. The...thing threw her to the ground, forcing its fingers, encased by long silver points, into the wounds. She screamed and thrashed, blood pooling around. He could tell someone was speaking, and it sounded like it came from the creature that tortured her. She shook her head, sobbing and sobbing. Then, as if she was a toy that bored it, it forced its fingers in deeper and deeper until the screams stopped, and it was difficult to pull them out. But, when it did, horrific pieces of meat and intestine came out.  
  
Jesse wanted to puke and leave. He did not sign up and agreed to watch his friends be pulled apart. Killed? It was a sad part of the job, but he was willing to see that. This was too much.  
  
A loud sound came, like a bird diving in the wind. And it both lifted and crushed the agent to watch Angela swoop down, her pistol at the ready. He watched her take down people before with her pistol, but this was different. He had doubts, not of her abilities, but because what she was going against. And it showed.  
  
Angela shot at him, going for the chest. It hit whatever that thing was a few times, making it stumble around blindly, then move away. She kept advancing, her staff in her other hand. She was ambidextrous, so, it was very easy for her to heal herself, and shoot at the same time. While the other seemed to have the ability to move freely as a vapor cloud, she could heal herself. It would be a difficult fight.  
  
Mercy pressed her attack, continuing to step closer and closer, even shooting at what looked like hands so it couldn't retrieve its shotguns. It seemed to be working very well. The thing was hissing and growling, having to stop constantly to protect itself. She switched to her staff for a moment, swinging it and connecting the rod to its skull, making a horrible sound. The thing fell to the ground, and Mercy held the gun to its head. Jesse knew this was the time to help. He stepped out, looking to all the other dead soldiers around to help collect when things shifted.  
  
A sickening laugh came from that smoke and it moved around Angela until he couldn't see her. The sound of tearing flesh made him move his feet towards her assaulter. Angela had been like a sister to him, and she helped him learn to use his bionic arm. It was helpful and heart warming. They would laugh as they went on missions together, Jesse telling a dirty joke and receiving a smack in response, and Angela sharing her own innocent, yet horrible jokes. He would groan at them, rolling his eyes and complaining. Even when he couldn't sleep due to phantom pains and nightmares, he could go to the medical bay, and she would be there to hold him and sing him to sleep.  
  
That's why the sight of her, chest ripped open, blood covering her face, made Jesse sob.  
  
He rushed over once the smoke cleared, and he grabbed the staff, trying to slam it against the ground.  
  
"Heroes nev'r die! Heroes nev'r die! How do I make this w-work?!" He was yelling, not even bothering to turn and watch his back. Angela was dead, and he could see her heart and lungs, punctured and pulled apart. He pulled her close, trying not to lose his sorry excuse of a breakfast all over his friend. It felt like his own heart had been torn apart and his lungs split into fours. Blood covered his front body, and it was warm. Fresh.  
  
"You aren't very fast, are you?"  
  
Jesse turned around to come face to face with the monster of nightmares. His jaw dropped, viewing the horror behind him. It wore a cape and had shotgun shells around its waist. It looked like its only purpose was to drag you into hell, into depths that would burn any sinner. He turned back around, as if bracing for his painful death, protecting what was left of the doctor in his arms.

"This is pitiful," The creature spoke, moving to the front and tugging Angela away. Jesse protested, trying to yank her back, but that wasn't enough to save her from being tossed to the side, hitting the wall and her spine cracking. Rage filled inside the cowboy as he holds his pistol out, eyes wide with pain. A few shots and this thing should be dead. It snickered, and shook its head, a bloodied hand coming up and removing the mask that looked too familiar.

It then clicked for Jesse. It was as fast as his gun hitting the floor. He shook his head, looking at the decaying mess that Gabriel Reyes was. His cheeks were missing, so you could peer at the rotten teeth, a few even missing. The eyes were milky, wrinkles covering whatever skin was left. His facial hair and eyebrows, hadn't changed a day since he left, and had he not witness his former boss and fatherly figure kill two friends after shooting him in the back, Jesse would have been joyful.

Gabe laughed, the black and dry tongue in his mouth moving to lick over his cracked lips. A hand came up and grazed the Mexican's face, sliding easily with the tears.

"You're weak. You are no _hijo_ of mine."

Memories flooded back as he went to his knees. He had only called Gabe  _padre_ whenever he felt at home and truly loved. After a mission that had gone wrong, he came back and sobbed. The hostages died and he watched as they did. He didn't deserve to be there, he was still a gang member. Nothing more. He was a mutt, a mixed man, a disgrace. It was all so familiar to him and easy to remember. Jesse was thinking about leaving and ignoring Overwatch. Gabriel, however, spoke with him. It took five hours to convince him that no one was perfect. Morrison wasn't perfect. Ana wasn't perfect. Gabriel Reyes was not perfect. He lost so many people. Things felt brighter to him then.

Not now. Now, he felt bad. He did this all. He did nothing to help, he just watched as friends were ripped apart like nothing.

He was no  _hijo._


End file.
